


Clearance

by lobsterkaijin



Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-09-26 11:55:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17141288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lobsterkaijin/pseuds/lobsterkaijin
Summary: This is beginning to feel like a punishment from the young master, though Vergo cannot recall what he has done to deserve it.





	1. Splintered Bamboo

**Author's Note:**

> for the previous part to this, click [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16967904).

How long could one person put up the facade of energy? Up until one’s boss wasn’t observing them, Vergo had hoped when Masaomi was assigned to his charge by the young master. It has to be an act. No one is  _ that _ cheerful. As soon as Doflamingo cut the line, the misnamed bounty hunter would settle down, show his true colours, as all people do. Telling himself these things was  _ supposed _ to be reassuring, but this was Shindou Masaomi, the shorts-wearing, pompadour-sporting, silver-tongued vixen that had enthralled their king. He wasn’t just anyone. Vergo checks his watch for the tenth time in a half hour and curses. Shindou’s some type of death alright. Just not a silent one.

 

“Vergo, sir! If I may call you that-” Shindou mutters about forgetting if the Officer said it was okay, and Vergo checks his watch again.

 

“Out with it, Shindou.”

 

“Well you see, sir, I was stricken with a great amount of curiosity-”

 

“Verbosity is verboten, Shindou.”

 

“Ah! Yes, well, alright. I will make the attempt. No promises.”

 

“You’re calling this an attempt, huh.”

 

Vergo glances up from his work desk and goes cross-eyed from the nose that was almost pressed to his. He scowls at the proximity. Hanging upside down, yet his ridiculous haircut remains patent. Everything about him is unbelievable, and working on Vergo’s last nerve. This is beginning to feel like a punishment from the young master, though he cannot recall what he has done to deserve it.

 

“Are you a frugal man?”

 

Vergo squints. “Huh?”

 

“The food dangling from the side of your face has caught my attention, sir. You eat it when you notice it is there. Do you save it for later because you too see wasting it as an invitation towards famine? That is what my mother always told me.”

 

“Shindou, for Christ sake, what the hell are you talking about?”

 

Masaomi swings back, and before Vergo can safely tuck away his sensitive documents, the bounty hunter has done a double flip and landed soundlessly on the desk in a squat that was better suited to a brothel than a professional office. Vergo’s eyes stay fixed on Masaomi’s face.

 

“The takoyaki.” He’s pointing. 

 

Without a change in expression, Vergo removes it and puts it in his mouth. Masaomi watches him with a disturbing amount of possessive fascination.

 

Vergo has been cursed with Masaomi’s company for not even a day and yet he can claim this is a rarity with the other, where he will not be speaking, his gaze faraway yet fixated on an object of interest. Like when he watched Baby 5 brushing her hair, and when he watched Jora polishing her jewelry, and when he watched Doflamingo strolling around the garden. ‘Keep an eye on him,’ Doflamingo had whispered on the other end when he’d given Vergo the responsibility of observing their new ally. The young master’s voice made the receiver feel heavy. Checking behind him, Vergo promised he would, but whenever he looked at Masaomi, he caught Masaomi looking back at him. Filled with galaxies, what did those eyes see? 

 

No rest until he finds out.

 

“Was it still good?” He is startled out of his thoughts. As impossible as it was, the bounty hunter had found a way to further invade his space, until it wasn’t his space any longer. Vergo wheels his chair back immediately.

 

“Shindou.”

 

“Yes, sir?”

 

“Get out of my office.”


	2. Split Bamboo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His mouth says one thing but his eyes say something else entirely; 'my compliance must be earned.'

Evil is a song that never ends, and cruelty’s the fool who stomps his foot to it. Vergo’s convinced he’s forgotten what quiet is in the three hours and twenty-one minutes since he ordered the bounty hunter out of his office. Punk Hazard, an icy desert wasteland with unforgiving winds and grey as far as the eye could see, and its workers were  _ singing _ . There was zero guess whose fault that was.

 

Sharing the limited space with Shindou was like being imprisoned with a hyperglycemic chihuahua, but in hindsight, there was only so much one person could do when constrained by four white walls. A whole sea and sky of space awaited him out there on deck. Releasing him into the wild was a mistake.

 

The office door slamming open jolts through the pier workers, and they freeze, staring wide-eyed at the source of the noise. All save for the bounty hunter drop their equipment. He is too busy twirling a mop. Vergo’s eye twitches behind his glasses. 

 

“Shindou.” Masaomi’s attention remains on his dance partner. “ _ Shindou. _ ” Vergo’s voice shakes the crew. Masaomi hums the next verse to his song. There are plenty ways to dispose of a body. Surely the young master would not miss him if he were to disappear? Then again, he’s taken quite a liking to the brat. Damn. He  _ would _ notice. “Shindou!”

 

“Wh- _ huh? _ Oh, Vergo, sir! Did you have need of me?” He’s by the officer’s side quicker than Vergo’s eyes can catch him. 

 

Vergo takes a subconscious step back, but doesn’t miss a beat in articulating the problem. “This is a highly sensitive operation that requires the  _ utmost _ of delicacy, and  _ you _ have decided to sing.”

 

“Yes, I have!” He’s so proud of himself. Vergo wants to rip the grin right off his face.

 

Bristling, he stands to loom over the bounty hunter, and glares directly into those eyes that refuse to look away. “Do you even comprehend what I am saying to you?”

 

“Are you asking me for an explanation, sir?”

 

“I don’t give a damn what your reason is, I want you to be  _ quiet _ .”

 

Masaomi tilts his head. “That’s an order? I’ll do my best, sir.”

 

His mouth says one thing but his eyes say something else entirely. A quirked brow, a grin that curls at the corners, and those damn eyes of his, always hungry. With eyelashes like teeth, they trap Vergo’s attention so he doesn’t have a choice in watching his reflection’s consumption by the ravenous gaze. It pours liquid fire into his core and leaves it to condense and harden, until the blatant defiance weighs on him. ‘My compliance must be earned,’ is what the look tells him as it sets every part of him on a slow roast.

 

He’s forced to look away, anger crawling up the edges of his skin. What a cocky little shit. “Find yourself something  _ useful _ to do, Shindou, and when our contacts arrive, make yourself scarce. Understood?”

 

Vergo slams door to his office, silently fuming over the insincerity of the bounty hunter’s salute.


	3. Cleared Bamboo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That bastard rookie was going to give them away going a hundred miles a minute like that.

The buzzing on the radio alerts Vergo to contact establishment between the pier workers and the returning marines from G5. While listening for names he recognizes, he devises a sad speech on the whereabouts of the civilians lost at sea, something about a sunken ship, and the team failing despite their best efforts. Then they will sail back to G5. Maybe there will be parents from the nearby town hanging around the base demanding explanations. He can take a mother’s hand within his own and apologize personally. His brain is on autopilot as he rehearses the lines in his head. ‘I’m sorry miss, but it was stormy, we couldn’t see a thing.’ She will believe him. They always do. 

 

And while that mother fell to her knees and wept for her beloved child, that child and all its little friends were well on their way to the grave. The only memories they’d carry were those of Caesar’s cruel laughter as he marked another failed experiment. Not all a waste, however. For all that trouble, delivered almost daintily to the slums of the underworld was a crate full of SAD powder, addressed to his dear friend  _ Joker _ . While business is booming, everyone wins. Oh, right, the children. Well,  _ almost _ everyone.

 

Then comes a name he recognizes but wishes he hadn’t. Like a wrench jammed in a cog it stalls his thoughts. The hell was that stunted tadpole doing here? Vergo sighs and puts down his cutlery. He’s slow to leave the office, slower to make his presence known, watching the group of marines and looking for the offending name.

 

The first thing he notices is there aren’t any sobbing parents. There are lower rank G5 marines that he’s seen here and there, but there are more marines that Vergo has not seen, men that presumably belong under Vice Admiral Inspector Jirou’s charge. The man has been given a wide perimeter but he is still dwarfed by the slabs of beef surrounding him as he hobbles through the facility, lecturing marine and pier worker alike on the value of team morale and how wonderful of a job they’re doing this time around on keeping the place busy. Bouncing beside him is the bounty hunter, a broad smile on his face, too happy to be talking to him. Vergo’s grip on the railing turns his knuckles white. That bastard rookie was going to give them away going a hundred miles a minute like that.

 

Shindou’s voice carried even before they approached the far side of the room where Vergo stood one floor above them. “We wear the same boots, sir! You want to see a passionate workforce, then you must show them tender care! An employee with bread on the table and a warm bed to sleep is ever the happier! A happy employee loves their job, and an employee that loves their job will work doubly as efficient! An efficient workforce gets twice the job done, and then you will reap the most benefit!”

 

Jirou’s withered voice can barely match Shindou’s. “Gimme twenty young men just like you! I’ve never seen anyone so excited to follow orders! Well, maybe twenty young men just like you, but minus the shorts!  _ Hawrk, hawrk, hawrk! _ ”

 

The bounty hunter’s grin grows exponentially. “Ho? But it will teach your men to resist the cold just as I!” His jacket is dusted with snow that flutters to the ground when he strikes his ridiculous pompadour-highlighting pose. Shindou really went outside to greet the Vice Admiral Inspector, in those damned  _ shorts _ no less.

 

Jirou laughs again and gives Shindou a pat on the back with a hand that’s lower than Vergo has ever seen it. “Yes, yes, it  _ is _ quite impressive how well you braved the wind! You gotta write a regimen for those schmucks back at G5!”

 

His ears were going to bleed if he had to listen to anymore of Jirou’s gargling, and his eyes would follow suit when he gouged them out at the disgusting display. Something had to be done. He clears his throat and announces his presence. “Vice Admiral Inspector Jirou, a pleasure.”

 

The old toad turns to look up at him, and the corners of his mouth fall far south, just like this whole operation was going to if those two weren’t separated. “Finally decided to show up, eh?” he jeers, pointing his cane in Vergo’s direction. “Your face is as hard on the eyes as ever, Vice Admiral. Clean up!”

 

Vergo descends at a brisk pace, letting the buffoon babble, all the while dreaming of the day he can slice the half-pint in quarters for the disrespect. Before Jirou can start his rant on professionalism, Vergo holds up a hand to interrupt him. “We didn’t get word from G5 that you’d be accompanying them here.”

 

Jirou almost hacks up a lung trying to get out a response. “I caught them on their way to Punk Hazard. Consider it a surprise visit! Ain’t no problem in that!” He sniffs, squinting as he looks around the facility. “The hell you doin’ here, anyways? Punk Hazard is off limits to both civilians  _ and _ marines.”

 

Vergo hands him a file with a report inside. “We received a distress signal back at the base originating ten clicks off the island’s west pier. It was suspicious for pirate activity, so we sent men to investigate.”

 

Jirou hands the file back to Vergo unopened. “Well, I don’t see any pirates here, so what the hell was it?”

 

_ ‘It’s in the report, you reprobate.’ _ Vergo bites back the sarcastic retort. “Civilian ship.” His neck muscles tense. “They hit an iceberg, called to the island for help. Though there is no one here, the facility’s tower bounced the signal back to us, but by the time we got there, a storm had sunk the rest of it. No bodies were recovered.”

 

“That don’t explain why you’re  _ here _ .”

 

“Refuelling and restocking, sir. We were low on resources as a result of the search and rescue. Storage in this facility was untouched since after The Incident, and this facility provided good shelter against the cold, so we sought to put both to good use.” Jirou strokes his chin, and Vergo swallows the urge to spit in his face. “Anymore questions?”

 

There’s a moment where Vergo thinks the bastard will hop off his back, but then he turns to the bounty hunter. “Really?  _ No _ survivors?”

 

There’s a missed beat, a moment where the cogs grind to a halt, where neither of them are sure who the Vice Admiral Inspector is addressing. Surely not the bounty hunter, who the Inspector would  _ know _ is not navy personnel, unless... Vergo coughs into his hand to fill the jilted silence. “As I said-”

 

“I’m not speaking to you, Vice Admiral.” The force with which he snapped deafens all activity in the room. They mill about, craning their necks to get a better look at what’s happening. “Now then,” Jirou says with a wobbly smile, “Shindou, was it?”

 

The bounty hunter, who had been hanging back since Vergo arrived, steps forward, poised with his hands behind his back. “Yes, sir?”

 

“You’re a trustworthy lad, so tell me, what is the Vice Admiral up to here?”

 

Shindou cocks his head to the side, and appears to be thinking. Vergo almost snorts. So he’s capable of it after all. “Is that not redundant? Master Vergo just summarized his activities here, sir. Restocking and refuelling.”

 

The old crone must’ve suffered a stroke. His droopy eyes blink at a snail’s pace. “R-Redundant?! Is that what you just said to me?” He stands there with his mouth hanging open and lazy eyes following different directions. Maybe the processing was too great a load on his moss-covered brain.

 

“Sir, if I may be so bold,” the bounty hunter starts. Jirou’s eyes snap back into focus, and Vergo’s jaw clenches.  _ Pipe down, Shindou. _ But he is speaking before Vergo can silence him.

 

“Master Vergo and his crew searched tirelessly to find those missing civilians. Neither food nor drink touched their lips, and they evaded sleep as it chased them. Idle conversation dare not cross their mind, lest it distract from their plan of action to locate that ship.” His hand grasps the fabric over his heart. “The loss of a life not yet lived, like a thorny bramble made of iron, weighs heavily on these men!”

 

Shindou breaks the bubble of space Jirou had surrounded himself with, smashing the barriers down with a swift kick and stepping up to him. Jirou is petrified, enraged by the gall of the bounty hunter to challenge his authority, when just five minutes prior he’d been an obedient dog. Eyes wide and mouth clenched in a thin line; it’s a good look on him. “See the despair on their faces, the crevices beneath their eyes, the darkness of a sunken heart! Oh, they loathe to return to base where surely the people will seek to make a scapegoat of them!”

 

He jabs a finger into the other’s chest.“You speak of efficiency, but are you so blinded by your heart hardened by years of duty that you cannot appreciate the efficiency with which Master Vergo and the G5 marines operate?”

 

He leans in and Jirou pulls away, bending, almost breaking in half to get away from the crushing presence that is Masaomi Shindou. The bounty hunter, by no means a large man, more than makes up for it in voice. He stands almost overlooking the Vice Admiral Inspector, yet is nowhere near as tall. Vergo’s eyes must be playing tricks on him. “Civilians cannot  _ possibly _ understand the guilt of these men, but  _ you _ , you must have enough sympathy in your heart to warm yourself to them, to see from the same eyes, to feel the same burden as it crushes your very  _ soul _ ! They too burn with love for their work!” 

 

His gravity turns Vergo’s stomach inside out. His heart drops 100 feet deep. Jirou shrinks back, just barely resisting. “You speak of passion, sir, for what better motive is there to act than out of love? Well then, your motives reek of a most pungent stench, the smell of a heart that has shrivelled and died long ago, left to rot at the bottom of the sea. There is no love in your actions. You do not crave for justice, nor do you hunger for retribution. You did not come here with the aim to help these men, you came to hinder them! Your inspection today is ghastly and bleeding greed! You too have fallen victim to the profanities of the civilian!”

 

Jirou’s tongue is caught in a bear trap, but the bounty hunter has yet to release him from his agony. He’s walked him back all the way to the entrance. With a gentle voice, Shindou finishes, “Set aside your suspicion, sir, for it has coloured your vision and stained your heart. You’ve allowed yourself to become cold to the disposition of others, and that does not do for a man of your high regards.”

 

Before Jirou collapses to the ground, Shindou grabs him by the collar in what could almost be considered a romantic gesture, and hauls him back to his feet. The pond scum is shaken, staring at the bounty hunter like he’s just seen God. Holding out a weak arm, he says, “I want that report.”

 

“Of course, sir.” Shindou pulls it out from under his jacket and hands it to him. Wait, when did he-?!

 

“That’s- hmph. Yes. Well. Good day to you, Vice Admiral Vergo. G5 marines sure are something.” Collecting his bearings, Jirou straightens out his navy jacket and clears his throat. “We’ll be waiting for you back at base.” With a pitiful salute, he’s out the door, his men following without a word.

 

The bounty hunter turns and smiles sweetly at Vergo, who nods at him in acknowledgement. When the excitement has died down, his attention is back on his men, and he snaps at them. “Back to work!”

 

“Sir, yes sir!” They scramble to their posts, falling back into the swing of things. 

 

Vergo doesn’t look at the bounty hunter, but he is almost warm when he says, “That means you too, Masaomi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow that was a lot longer than i expected, but i'm pretty happy with how this turned out.
> 
> i'm not sure if i got to every little thing i wanted to for this story. there were some things i couldn't add in because it was not relevant or it didn't mesh with the flow of the writing. so, in case it wasn't made readily apparent by the writing, i'm going to summarize some background context: 
> 
> vergo was, to say the least, unhappy with doflamingo taking an immediate liking to this stranger. he couldn't understand what doflamingo saw in him. what made vergo more unhappy was that doflamingo assigned the stranger to his charge. it felt like a punishment, given their clashing personalities, and it seemed like he was placing a huge amount of trust in someone that did not deserve it. it took years for the established relationship between vergo and doflamingo to form, and so, to put it simply, vergo is jealous. his jealousy makes him all the more critical of the bounty hunter. 
> 
> from doflamingo's point of view, this jealousy makes vergo the perfect candidate to determine the stranger's reliability. he wants vergo to scrutinize every little thing, because he is the sort of man who is slow to trust and is rarely impressed by anything. doflamingo trusts vergo to dispose of the bounty hunter should his intentions differ from his original promise.
> 
> vergo had a lot of initial impressions of the bounty hunter, and now? they haven't been proven wrong or right, the waters have only become muddy.


End file.
